Your favorite color is red Mine too, now My feet and platforms match these days Your candy cane glistens in the 'correct' hue I snatch the dress you couldn't remove patiently And dump it in the kitchen trash which still smells of nail polish A small cost, really Standing here, I miss your scent Your taste My hunger is growing and both sets of my lips moisten Ribs, Thighs, Flesh, Frenzy I find I'm grasping something Not your hair An overstuffed garbage bag I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, I'll Run this to the chute I needed some air anyways I'll be back Soon? (Heartburn now) It seems My acrylics have pinced Not my keys A coin Heads: We try again and again and again to get more of you into me Excise any me that's still within Range of your silver bullet A mercy? Tails: Your scent Your taste Ribs Thighs Flesh Frenzy In fact, why not the Red You love so much A Rare opportunity For a couple to become so close My love, I have often felt like prey and now You will Indulge me as I Pick your tendons from betwixt my Teeth
Inspired by a Substack poem of the same name. With kindness to the original author (don't mention anything to them ever), I thought the imagery could use a little focus. Also some credit to Deric Bindel for There is a Hole in your Chest, one of my favorite ttrpg's that I've never played.
© 2025. This work is openly licensed via CC BY-NC-SA 4.0.